


Don't Cry Over It

by Jaakkola



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Banter, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, World of Warcraft: Legion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22129969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaakkola/pseuds/Jaakkola
Summary: "What is this?""Soup.""And where did it come from?""Vanessa."Shaw raised an eyebrow.
Relationships: Tess Greymane/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Don't Cry Over It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azurehue22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurehue22/gifts).



> A good friend told me this great idea for a fic she was gonna write. So naturally I stole it instead of writing any of my own shit or what's been requested of me. Because I'm that great of a person.

"Knock knock," a voice called out, and Shaw looked up to be greeted with the sight of Tess Greymane in the doorway, holding a bowl in her hands.

"Your highness," Shaw bowed his head in response, pulling the thin blanket that was draped across his shoulders a bit closer. He was far too aware of how the upper half of his body was too exposed for his liking. Hopefully the Burning Legion didn't discard his armor, but the chance they did was unlikely. They seemed to enjoy taking trophies.

Tess seemed to soften the slightest bit, her shoulders relaxing. "How are you doing?"

"I've been worse," Shaw said, and after a moment of thought, added, "granted, that worse was just a few hours ago."

Tess frowned, face sullen with pity. "I brought you something to eat." She raised the bowl up slightly, finally crossing the towards him. There wasn't a lot to the room — only a small cot and a stool — but it still managed to fill the space, or rather, the lack-thereof. It gave him privacy, however, and while he doubted there was much of it while surrounded by so many rogues, he did appreciate it.

Tess handed the bowl over, and Shaw peered into it to see it filled with a broth, it looking to be a rather unappetizing green. He looked up at Tess. "What is this?"

"Soup."

"And where did it come from?"

"Vanessa."

Shaw raised an eyebrow.

"Kidding!" Tess smiled. "Our herbal expert made it. It's supposed to help you get your energy back, or something." Tess didn't seem entirely convinced by her own words as she looked back down at it. "I'm not entirely sure what the difference between tea and soup is, but I'm sure this is blurring the lines, one bowl at a time. But I watched him make it, there's nothing that would be poisonous in it."

Tess gestured the bowl out towards Shaw again, and Shaw took it with some reluctance. Meals had been a rare occurrence while in captivity, rarer than water, and everything he ate dried his mouth and burned his throat with fel. He should have been thankful for something else, a promise of more consistent mealtimes, but his stomach just turned with nausea. Nonetheless, he steeled himself and raised the bowl to his mouth to take a drink.

Shaw regretted it almost immediately.

"Oh, that's—" Shaw pulled the bowl away from his mouth and coughed, trying to fight down the worsening nausea.

"That bad?"

"I'd rather you put me back in Felsoul Hold."

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad." Tess looked back down to the soup. "Can it?"

"The swiftthistle and the celery do not compliment each other in the slightest, especially not in a... broth from whatever animal this is," Shaw replied, and settled for holding the bowl on his lap. Then he grimaced, the aftertaste seemed even worse than the soup.

"It's not a meat broth."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

Shaw's grimace magnified.

"Well," Tess said after a long moment of silence, "I'm glad you're alive."

That stirred something in Shaw, something that did not mix with the nausea well. He scooted over on the cot and nodded to the newly made space his right. "What have I missed?" 

Tess took the spot beside Shaw with a heavy sigh. "A lot," she started, "King Varian died on Broken Shore."

Shaw found himself frowning. Detheroc liked to brag about the Legion's latest exploits to Shaw in an attempt to truly break his spirit, and as there had been no way for Shaw to confirm anything that came out of the dreadlord's mouth, he mostly tried to disregard whatever was mentioned to him. In some of the first days of his captivity, Detheroc bragged about the death of the human king. Broken Shore wouldn't have been a victory in the best of circumstances, but the loss of the High King seemed like an impossibility. With Tess confirming this, a suffocating sense of guilt began to grow in Shaw.

Shaw found his voice with a struggle. "What of his son?"

"He's been crowned King."

That was true too, then. Shaw nodded, thinking of what Detheroc had told him about what he put into Anduin's ear while Shaw was held captive. The soup warmed his hands, and he, with an inordinate amount of begrudging reluctance, took another drink from the bowl. It seemed worse the second time around. And he thought thistle tea tasted bad. Shaw took a moment to compose himself before saying, "how did the Uncrowned find out about Detheroc?"

"Amber Kearnen managed to warn us."

Shaw looked to Tess. "She lived?"

"Was killed on our doorstep, actually," Tess said with a somber look, "without her, we wouldn't have found out until it was too late."

Shaw looked back to the sorry excuse for a meal in his hands. There was so much loss, and so much of it could have been prevented if he had been more careful with things. Light damn it all.

"She made a sacrifice to ensure that you were rescued," Tess continued, no doubt noticing Shaw's shift in mood.

Shaw sighed and rubbed his face. He was several weeks overdue for a shave. "The situation is a... bit more dire than that. If what Detheroc has told me is true, then deadly conflict between the Alliance and the Horde will be occurring very quickly."

Tess was silent for a moment. "What Detheroc has told you?"

"He'd often come and brag about what he was doing while I was in Felsoul Hold."

"He just... told you his plans?"

"It's hard to believe that they keep losing to us." Shaw cracked a grin. Tess chuckled, tilting her head down. A silence filled the space between the two; not uncomfortable, but there's a lot of unsaid words that hung between them. Shaw took a drink of his soup, and tried not to regret it too much.

"I don't think I've ever seen you be so expressive before, so there's that," Tess offered as Shaw pulled a face of disgust.

Despite the foul taste in his mouth and the weight of the past several weeks still resting on his shoulders, Shaw exhaled a laugh. "So, a Shadow of the Uncrowned? Must be quite the accomplished rogue to catch Jorach's eye."

"Well, I did learn from the master of all assassins, after all." Tess placed a gentle hand on Shaw's knee and gave a light squeeze. It's a breach of personal space — which they've had before, he had been training her in ways of subterfuge and assassination for a while now, and that tended to be a up close and personal teachings — but it was something different now. A different context, a different gesture. Shaw didn't pull away so he didn't draw attention to it.

Shaw hummed. "Learn anything from your time here?"

"I may have picked up a thing or two."

"Well, when I'm in a better state, we'll have to see how far you've come in my absence." Shaw regarded Tess carefully. Stress deepened her features, more than usual, but given recent events, it wasn't shocking. There was an underlining and pervasive sense of relief as well. "Maybe this time, you'll even surprise me."

"We'll just have to hope that you aren't too out of practice from your little vacation," Tess goaded.

"My vacation," Shaw echoed with a cocked eyebrow, "I would have thought you'd learned better trash talking from all your time spent around these reprobates."

"Maybe I just don't want to go too hard on an old man," Tess remarked, daring closer with a smug grin on her face.

Shaw scoffed. Just like her father. "Don't say that too loud, if Jorach catches wind, he'll have you on your back with a dagger pinning you down before you see him."

Tess laughed, and Shaw realized that they were far too close for his liking. He turned from her, and Tess immediately pulled her hand away and retreated back to the other end of the cot. The air was unbearable now. He took another drink of his soup, finding it preferable to the current situation.

There was a commotion from outside, a welcomed distraction that drew both of their attentions. "Let's hope that's the newest Shadow," Tess said as she stood, "and not... well..."

"Defias," Shaw completed.

"They won't do anything within these halls," Tess promised with a small smile. She crossed the small room once again, paused, and looked back to Shaw. "Well, Vanessa might, but I think Jorach is intending to keep your arrival... quiet for the time being."

"That'll go over well," Shaw mumbled into his soup bowl. From the edges of the bowl, he could see the level the soup settled at, and saw that he's barely had any of it, despite his attempts to drink it. "There is a _very_ good chance she'll try to kill me, just so you're aware."

"I'll make sure you get your armor back as soon as it enters these halls."

"Thank you, Tess." Shaw's voice cracked with sincerity as he looked up at her. 

Tess lingered at the door for a moment longer. "I'm glad you're okay," she said, voice loud enough for Shaw to hear, and nothing more. With quiet footsteps, she retreated into the shadows.

Shaw ran a hand across his face once again, disgusted with the proper beard he had developed. It itched, made his face far too hot for his liking, and made everything worse. A reminder at just how much was taken from him. Time, energy, information... good agents.

Shaw struggled to keep his composure in the little room that felt like more than a closet than anything else. _Light damn it all._ He slammed his fist down onto his lap, but instead found the rim of the bowl, splashing soup all over his bare chest.

"You're smarter than this, Mathias," he mumbled to himself. He allowed himself a moment to feel everything he had forced himself to push down since the start of the third invasion. An ugly, raw moment that he was embarrassed to have, but one he really needed.

A deep breath, and it was over. "I've been through the worst of it, just need to get through the rest of it," he mumbled, using the blanket to sop up the mess. Soon, things will be normal again.

Well, as normal as things seemed to get in Azeroth.

**Author's Note:**

> greyshaw? shawmane? shane? mess? tethias? i don't know man, i just work here.
> 
> fairshaw sometime after korrak ends.


End file.
